


Getting By With a Little Help From Friends

by sanctum_c



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon spliced, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, False Identity, Gen, Light-Hearted, Missing Scene, Time Loop, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 10,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21851956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanctum_c/pseuds/sanctum_c
Summary: “This time! This time I will succeed!” Not clear how many of the first few times his voice, the same – or at least broadly similar – yell of triumph made her heart skip a beat and Aeris near jump out of her skin. A petrifying predicament for a ten year old. However, aged twelve, and having put up with this for years, that specific yell could only mean one thing. It was Tuesday.Not that it mattered. Aeris counted down from thirty and took three steps to her left. A rush of air and a familiar sword plunged into the ground three steps to her right.A story of significant strangers over the course of Aeris's life;The man who helped her escape the Shinra building;The woman who taught her the language of Wutai;The vampire and his minion who kept Sector Five monster-free;The man who showed her how to survive in the wilderness;The man who showed her how to get to the Upper plate;The woman who taught her the language of a remote mountain town;The store-manager inexplicably eager to overlook her shop-lifting;The man who tried to give her a sword;The woman who loved to talk and simply won't leave her alone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12
Collections: FF7 Secret Santa 2019





	1. A Really High Ceiling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yataaa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yataaa/gifts).



> Written for the following prompt:
> 
>  _my favorite time travel stories are usually the ones where it’s told from an outside perspective. basically, what kind of assumptions would people make about someone acting strange (not knowing its time travel)?_  
>  anyway, i’d prefer cloud but i really don’t care who does the time traveling  
> gen fic preferred but not a hard requirement!
> 
> ...and this happened. Any familiar-named, non- _FFVII_ characters (except for one) are absolutely OCs. Honest.

The escape from the Shinra building was a frenzied and confusing occasion for Aeris. Roused from sleep by her mother who informed her they were leaving immediately. No time to take anything (the army of plushies on her bed, the threadbare tomes from over-reading, any of her pictures). They had to leave now and had to leave fast. A technician stood at the door. Unfamiliar and thus something of a rarity in Hojo’s labs. The same faces were in the lab over and over again as the years wore on. This one hid behind the kind of mask Hojo and co. wore before the truly unpleasant tests of which Aeris never remembered what occurred but always dreaded. Despite her mother’s words, could this be one of those tests?

The sunglasses were an oddity though; Aeris would know them as such for many years. Little call for protective eyewear in a city where the sun rarely shone. The unfamiliar lab technician was doing his best to hide his face, his eyes and his hair – and failing in the latter. Wisps of blond hair jutted out from under a shower cap of the type also usually worn by techs during the unpleasant testing. But no restraints, no gurney nearby – none of the usual apparatus for the bad tests. A relief.

The stranger gestured through the doorway. “Go straight down the hall, through the door at the end. Then down the stairs – all the way to the bottom. There’ll be a door right ahead. Go through that and you’ll be out.” Another glance around. “Turn left and you’ll see the plaza. Go straight across, up the stairs and take the first right. Station’ll be dead ahead.” The stranger raised an arm; a bulky watch strapped alongside an equally bulky bracer. “You’ve got half an hour until someone notices you’re gone.”

“Thank you.” Her mother paused; the delay only served to agitate the stranger.

“Go!”

Her mother took Aeris’s hand and hurried down the hall; she was tense, looking left and right as she walked. Behind them- The stranger was gone. Odd. The door to their room stood ajar, but of the masked man there was not a sign.

His directions were at least accurate. Once through the door, the stairwell echoed with every footfall, her mother torn between taking it slow and stealthy or descending as fast as she could. Aeris struggled behind her, the height of the steps awkward and tiring. Her mother carried her down some but could not support her for long. She let Aeris down and helped her with the rest of the steps. At last, a door at the base of the stairs-

The door flew open, Mom’s hand tightening around Aeris’s. “You’re taking too long!” A remarkably similar man – same voice, height, build, sunglasses and face-mask - held the door open. But now he wore an ill-fitting beanie and dark clothing. Aeris opened her mouth to ask the perfectly pertinent question of how he got down before them- “Run!”

Her mother jerked her forward. Aeris struggled to keep up and not stare. Outside was vast. Vaster than vast. The ceiling was out of sight above. None of the walls seemed to enclose anything. And people. So many people milling around; so many strangers and no two dressed alike. The urge to ask questions- A shout behind them; the masked man had kept pace with them. “Keep going, I’ll hold them off.”

He hurried back the way they came, towards a towering bulk of metal and glass, a nail-studded club of some kind clutched in one hand. Men with guns and blue uniforms rushed towards him- The crowd obscured his fate, anguished yells and demands to step aside faint above the crowd. Her mother continued across the plaza. Up the stairs, first right- And ahead of them the train stood waiting, the doors open. A chirping chime in the air. Her mother panicked, hurried. More shouts behind them. Her mother picked up Aeris and ran.

A crack of thunder, her mother stumbling, struggling and panting. They fell through the door and it closed behind them.

Her mother kept one hand braced against her side, breathing hard. Her other hand stayed clamped around Aeris’s arm in a painful grip, keeping her close to the floor. No sign of pursuers from the low angle, but right before the train swept into the tunnel, stood beside the tunnel entrance, was the masked man, his head lowered.


	2. Tuesdays

A masked man continued to crop up in Sector Five. He was soon joined by a curious and also largely inexplicable companion. Or nemesis. Aeris had picked up the word from some old detective books she found in the Sector’s sole book-shop. It seemed more or less appropriate. She settled on Purple for the newcomer’s name. The masked man was Mask.

As a child of the slums, Aeris spent much of her day from ages nine to thirteen finding ways to occupy her time. Mom provided plenty of books to read – and while reading remained a valued and valid past-time, there was so much of the sector to see and explore. Other kids to, well- Try and befriend, despite her reputation for weirdness. Disappointing, but there were other people, a continual change of population-

“This time! This time I will succeed!” Not clear how many of the first few times his voice, the same – or at least broadly similar – yell of triumph made her heart skip a beat and Aeris near jump out of her skin. A petrifying predicament for a ten year old. However, aged twelve, and having put up with this for years, that specific yell could only mean one thing. It was Tuesday.

Behind her was an older man - long, ragged and artificially purple hair concealing one eye (the other glowed with the unmistakable ring of Mako denoting SOLDIER (or one hardy enough to have fallen into a Mako lake and lived)), tattered black coat and a thin sword terminating in an awkward, jagged edge. He strode towards her. Aeris was not an innocent in the slums. The situation, the environment and numerous other factors lead to what the Upper Plate types might term ‘a checkered past’. Chocolate taken from shops without paying. Staying up far later than allowed. Sneaking out of her bedroom window at night. Watching inappropriate VHS tapes. Trespass.

Of all her crimes, trespass seemed about the only one capable of riling someone like Purple to such an extreme, but try as she might, Aeris had no idea who the man was, which building she had snuck into, and how he found her each and every Tuesday. Or why he looked so increasingly exasperated. At one point she would have fled as fast as her legs could carry her. A few times she demanded answers or plead her innocence or offered sincere apologies. Running sort of worked, but entreaties to the man’s better judgement or sympathies never went anywhere.

For the last two years Aeris stood her ground. The man’s grin grew, a renewed manic glint in his eye. Close. Sword raised. A twitch of his hand-

Mask rushed from somewhere behind her, Purple’s sword caught on a curious, intricately carved blade. “Get out of here!” Mask shot her a glance. There was a time when she took his command to heart too. But he said the same thing every Tuesday and complying meant missing the highlights of the next few minutes.

Purple bellowed with rage, his face reddening. He jumped backwards an absurd (impossible) distance and sought to flank Mask. Mask was ready and leapt forward, bringing their swords together in an echoing clang. Purple took the opportunity to leap off to one side, and into a nearby hollow in the trash heaps, Mask hot on his heels. There was some confusion over what happened after. Aeris had on a number of occasions clambered up the side of the hollow to track the remainder of the fight, but find no sign of either Purple or Mask. Hard to explain; no way in or out except by making one of Purple’s absurd leaps, or scrambling up the trash as Mask and Aeris resorted to. No way for her to miss either of the men performing a similar feat to get back out.

Not that it mattered. Aeris counted down from thirty and took three steps to her left. A rush of air and a familiar sword plunged into the ground three steps to her right. Purple glared at her, opening his mouth to say something. Before he could say a word he glanced up, rolled to one side and narrowly avoided a sweeping blow from Mask who would reiterate his earlier demand to her. “I told you to get out of here!”

And like always, Purple would flee, Mask would follow- And the end point of their fight moved out of conceivable position for her to witness. Presumably neither won – thus why a week later, Purple would try again. But Mask would always appear – and Purple never seemed to learn or adjust his course of action. Probably a good thing.


	3. What They Don’t (Normally) Teach In the Slums

Wednesday’s were when Aeris usually wandered over to Ms. Trepe’s house. The name was a curiosity given Ms. Trepe was from Wutai and her name was not. Possibly Ms. Trepe had married at some time in the past, though her personal history was always a bit vague whenever Aeris touched on it. Aeris had run across – near literally – Ms. Trepe on one of her escapes from Tseng – itself frustratingly periodic.

“Watch it!” The older, kimono-wearing Wutai woman - black hair flecked with grey - scowled at her, Aeris barrelling past her. Aeris darted behind cover and carefully peeked back the way she came. “Hey. Kid. Someone after you?”

“Shinra.”

The older woman barked a laughter. “Shinra. They won’t last.” The words seem to faze her and she muttered something in an unfamiliar language.

Odd sentiment. Scratch that; odder still an elderly member of Shinra’s sworn enemy was here in the slums. Or perhaps not; Tseng’s presence within the Turks was hardly less strange. “Are you speaking Wutai?”

“Maybe.” The woman smiled. “Bet you don’t hear it much here.” Aeris shook her head and the woman sighed. “Kids these days. Whole world and other cultures out here and Shinra’s got no time for any of them – and wants to make sure none of you lot do too.”

Another peek. No sign of pursuit. “What’s Wutai like?”

“Glorious. The Da Chao is a sight to behold.” She pointed to the Upper plate. “It’s a carved mountain – by hand mind you – higher than that wretched plate. A monument to our gods and its filled with fire.” She said the last with a certain amount of glee.

“I’d- I’d like to see that.”

“Of course you would!” The woman straightened up. “Hard to get around there without a guide though. You Easterners always struggle there. Unless you’re willing to make the effort to learn the language.”

“Learn...” Past the curve of observable future was at least the notion of leaving the city and seeing the world. Visiting somewhere like Wutai would be interesting if the opportunity arose; going there now seemed more vital. “How would I do that?”

The woman chortled. “I can teach you some of it. If you’re willing to learn.”

The bait in the centre of the trap. “How much?”

“Much?”

Aeris sighed. “Money.” Everything has its price and her own funds were so limited. Perhaps she could get by somehow learning from this lady for less than the price of bread? Absurd.

“Ah, don’t worry about that.” The woman smiled.

“But-“

“I’m old and lonely. Keeping me company will do as payment enough.” Certainly true on both counts. Ms. Trepe – first name Quistis (also not a Wutai name) but she had a habit of not responding to it – lived alone, knew next to nothing about her neighbours and tended to struggle with currency. ‘Stupid denominations’ was her usual complaint.

Each subsequent Wednesday Aeris knocked on the door of Ms. Trepe’s apartment and was swiftly ushered inside. Ms. Trepe lived an absurd spartan existence; little furniture in her apartment, few forms of entertainment, but an enormous supply of paper and battered, threadbare Wutai-printed books, and oddly, a whole crate of Materia. Aeris’s language skills developed to the point Ms. Trepe would open conversations in Wutai and Aeris would respond in kind. Speaking the language was fine. Writing and reading was a more complicated proposition, taking time and effort to learn a number of other glyphs with whole other meanings depending on context.

But the effort paid off; Aeris could cope with simplistic children’s stories and Ms. Trepe always encouraged her progress and would talk happily about anything on Aeris’s mind. There were occasions where she wanted to mention the oddity of Purple and Mask from the previous day, but what good would that do? Aeris learned a few more glyphs, read a few more pages until the evening arrived and she bade Ms. Trepe goodnight, leaving her to sorting through her Materia collection again.


	4. Cryptids

When Aeris was thirteen, life in Midgar became more dangerous. Allegedly anyway. Heavy rain-storms plagued the year, a number of meteorological experts pointing to an inevitable consequence of Mako energy use. Shinra were typically dismissive of the claims and continued their construction and deployment of new reactors. News reports on occasion showed the increasing barren plain surrounding Midgar – vaster than similar rings of devastation around Kalm and Junon. And most authorities outside of Shinra stressed that the ring of devastation was provoking a shift in the monster population.

Monsters were one of the dark open secrets of Midgar. No one liked to talk about their presence inside the city, no one would officially admit it, but in addition to the gangs and Shinra, something else lurked in the darkness under the plates. The year endured an increase in Hell House reporting; furiously urgent whispers rippling through communities to warn against seemingly perfect abandoned homes in desolate areas. The warning seemed out of a children’s story, but no one was laughing. They’d all seen the houses that walked. Too many fooled in the gloom, assuming there was shelter to be had as the front door snapped shut behind them and trapped them forever – or as long as digestion took.

Other, smaller, monsters prowled the city, ready to snatch an unwary soul. Posters asking for information on missing people plastered walls; desperate entreaties from Sector One, Sector Three, Sector Four- But oddly, never Sector Five or Sector Seven.

The two safest sectors in Midgar for some reason – and not something people had much of an answer for how or why. There were rumours of some new vigilante or some kind of benevolent monster – or both. Hard to give much credit to the idea. The evidence was absurdly slim and sightings rare. Aeris never caught hide nor hair of anything to give the rumours much credence.

No glimpses of a larger than normal (much larger) cat-shaped creature who hunted monsters. No figure with a shining arm, a red cape and deadly accuracy. Or possibly a vampire (confused rumours). But despite no direct evidence, monster corpses turned up with odd wounds. This one (the believers insisted) suffered a mauling by something with cat-like teeth, but with a bite-size far in excess of any house cat. Bullets riddled this monster, though that proved almost nothing. The one torn nearly clean in half by an almost incalculable strength was clearly not a result of either mythologised entity, but what could have achieved that – outside of something worryingly huge - was still unclear.

The latter incident made the populace of Midgar wary for some months but when no further corpses with similar wounds surfaced the worries ceased – though various armchair detectives continued to speculate on the nature of the creature responsible. At least there were no reports of monsters near the church – although some sightings of the cat-monster placed it near the building a few times. Always a slim hope she might catch a glimpse of at least one of mysterious monsters.

While Midgar was never free of monsters, their population did reduce again over the course of the year – and with it, sightings of both reduced to nothing. Soon they were nothing but a punch-line, an example of rumours seizing the imagination of Midgar on a periodic basis. Especially the creature named ‘Cat’. A few budding authors penned lurid romances involving some of the more weirdly specific reports of the vigilante, naming him Victor – a reference inspired by a reportedly vampiric aspect to his appearance. The romance novels were all the rage and Aeris greedily indulged in the racy fantasies until they too fell out of favour.

Still odd though; so many sightings of Cat and Victor – but never any of Purple or Mask – both of which she hadn’t seen in some time.


	5. Not Necessarily an Extreme Sport

Half-way through her thirteenth year, Aeris met Zell Dincht. Or Zell as he insisted. “Don’t like the surname business.” Zell was missing a hand and part of his arm; had dark, greying hair; dark skin; what might have been a faint tracery of a tattoo on one arm; and an unfamiliar accent. Not that he liked talking about where he came from. Or much of anything. Zell was not one for conversation. Perhaps he regretted asking her for help?

She had wandered along, minding her own business, looking for something to occupy her time (if nothing else presented itself, she was walking to the edge of the city and peering across the desert again. Reportedly on a good day you could see grass out there. So much easier to do from the Upper Plate, but there was the cost of a pass to get up there – and after that the various obstacles and residences preventing anyone getting close to the outer edges) when he called out. “Miss? Can you help me?”

Zell was standing beside a tent, under an awning and struggling with a rope, trying – awkwardly – to loop the cord into a knot. “Uh- Sure?”

“Thank you.” He held the rope out. “Right over left, then left over right.”

Aeris blinked at him, taking the proffered rope. “Um?”

Zell sighed, directed her to hold the rope with both hands and lead her through tying a reef knot. “Need to learn how to do it myself at some point. But sometimes-“ He smiled ruefully.

“Did you lose your hand camping?” The extreme sport was notorious for monster injuries and why anyone undertook it was unclear. Certainly Zell was far older than most of the adherents Aeris ran across – or the ones occasionally depicted in ‘youth’-oriented TV shows. At least he was not aping the lingo or the dress sense of the other camping aficionados.

He snorted and clasped the end of his right arm with his left hand. “Nah. Lost it long before. Camping’s dangerous for sure, but never that bad. So long as you’re sensible-“ He shook his head. “Not something that appeals?”

Aeris shook her head. “Not sure I want to encourage monsters to attack.”

Zell grinned. “It’s not all about that though. That’s the weirdos.” A group that many in the slums felt Aeris belonged to. Perhaps there was some finer grained category of weirdo as sports like camping were not something she considered for entertainment. “Some people need it to have some shelter on their way through the wilderness.”

“Like you?”

His grin almost slipped, the shadow of a pained memory there. “Yeah. Yeah, I had no choice. Could hardly believe that the people here do it for sport.” He snorted again.

Aeris toyed with the fabric of the tent flap. “For some reason I thought that was all there was to it. So, if I wanted to get out of here one day; if I had a tent I could be more independent?”

Zell nodded. “Yep. Wouldn’t go dismissing the benefits of hot meals and comfortable beds, but when you’ve got no choice – nice to have the option.” Good enough reasoning. She visited Zell about once a week learning various knots, foraging (limited practical experience given the slums), navigation, how to deploy and collapse a tent, water purification and anything else he could teach her. Until the day Zell was gone. Not a trace of him or his belongings under the awning remained. No one in Sector Five could tell her where or how he had moved on. Here one day, gone the next. A man who kept apart and missed by few people.


	6. Gotta Get Up

At fourteen, Aeris learned there were cheaper, less scrupulously honest ways of getting access to the Shinra transit system and up to the Upper Plate. It took some time to find out how one managed it – or perhaps more accurately - where someone would get the reusable cards other teenagers in the slums were using to make use of a wider space and far, far removed from parents or any authority figure who gave a damn about them. Reportedly on clear nights the stars were visible from the Upper Plate – and rumours insisted sometimes the sun shone sufficiently to gain a tan.

It all sounded wonderful.

Patience, careful listening and a few instance of surreptitious following lead Aeris to Kramer (unclear on first or surname). An older man with a goatee who ran a run-down electrical repair shop close to the border with Sector Six. For the most part, his store was the place to get old and broken down electronics repaired – or at least a decent price if the thing was beyond salvage. He sold second hand video-games, last generation computers, VHS decks, old TVs and – perplexingly – a number of stuffed animals. As a result he enjoyed routine trade from multiple generations.

But hardly the type to be trading in fake transit passes – even if it was pretty obvious he had the skills to engineer such a thing. Cautious too; more than once Kramer angrily insisted he had no idea about any fake passes when other teenagers or adults asked him. But after lurking close by, pretending to stare at a cactuar-shaped doll, Aeris picked up on the code at work. ‘Odine sent me’ and the seemingly harmless sale of a VHS tape would see the customer pay too much for the transaction – and get something a lot like a travel card handed back along with the receipt.

Kramer stared at her sceptically when she tried. She returned his gaze until distracted by a cat plushie with a crown sitting on a shelf behind him. He murmured something and shortly Aeris was in possession of a highly unauthorized travel card. Gateway to the Upper Plate. The impulse was to try it immediately, but she employed a measure of restraint. Going now would mean struggling through rush-hour and racing home after. The next day was a far better prospect.

Shame the weather was not better. Rain-storms still plagued Midgar – never as bad as the monster incursion year, but still enough to make leaving the slums unpleasant. While it was of course possible to check the state of the weather through the gaps between Sector Five and Six, and Five and Four, there were few ways to gauge the remainder of the day. The news contained the information as a matter of course, but few in the slums cared and to pay attention would be to invite curiosity.

Turned out the feeling was not universal. Many in the slums travelled to the Upper Plate for work – and among these were regular whispers of the weather forecast. Not always accurate – weather in Midgar could be astonishingly unpredictable – but a decent enough guideline for when Aeris should take an umbrella to the Upper Plate. Something she kept hidden from Mom, not keen on explaining how and why she owned it.

The Upper Plate was astounding (no rush to escape from Shinra’s clutches this time) – but also left her feeling out of place. Up here was wealth and power. People drifted aimlessly or barged into others unwilling to deviate around a person-shaped obstacle. Restaurants never bothered to list prices. Shinra were prevalent and hard to miss, but no infantry, no SOLDIER gave her a second glance. Tseng was nowhere in sight. Despite a few lingering misgivings, the ascending trip up all the way around the central hub was intoxicating and needed repeating. And for a time everything was fine – until her pass stopped working.

Kramer shrugged when she asked about it. “They figured out what was going on. Changed the access codes.”

Her new found new frontier torn away without warning. “Can you find the new codes?”

He blinked. “Oh, naturally. But I can’t guarantee how long it’d take and how long it’d last.” He smiled. “Pretty good timing though. Thinking about moving on anyway.” A blow; the shop a mainstay for VHS tapes for years.

“Can’t you try before you go?” Too desperate. “Sorry.”

“Eh." He rummaged beneath the counter. "Just going to toss all the junk out anyway. I’ll show you how to program the cards. Keep it to yourself though. Fewer people using them, the longer it’ll take to catch on – and if you keep on doing it, eventually they’ll change it entirely.”

“I can keep a secret.” Another anyway. He handed her a device with a keypad and explained the likely combinations of codes Shinra would deploy. Aeris listened attentively – and never paid for travel to the Upper Plate again.


	7. Budding Entrepreneur

Selling flowers was plausible and workable in Aeris’s head. Essentially impossible to grow them in the slums (if it was possible to overcome the state of the ground, there remained the complexities of the metal sky), there were some gardens on the Upper plate producing flowers for those capable of affording them. These were not the best and those who wanted something usable (for events, for colour in their homes, for whatever) could buy some of the imported fauna capable of persisting in Midgar for about a week.

Surely, given the hoops and complexities of obtaining flowers, her own efforts from the church would sell by comparison. No other flowers for sale in the slums – and those brought down were rare. More flowers on the upper plate, but they never seemed as colourful or as eye-catching as hers. This could be bias on her part – such a thing was impossible to deny. Mom thought they were amazing too, but-

How did one sell flowers? She could pick them, fill a basket with as many as she could carry (or arrange without crushing). And- Hope to get noticed? Stay in one place or wander around the slums? How much did one charge? Time spent growing the flowers was huge but how much should she charge? One gil? Ten gil? One hundred? She needed to find or figure out prices. Certainly few in the slums could afford to buy a lot for her flowers, but thanks to Kramer’s pass, she could get to the Upper Plate for free.

The wider-berth and occasionally dubious questions resulting from the first attempt Aeris made to sell in the slums underscored the notion something was wrong with her current approach. Naïve assumption perhaps; the flowers would sell easily, the uniqueness of their availability here would inspire curiosity and a desire to possess them. People seemed reluctant to approach her and grew suspicious if she went up to them. Perhaps her demeanour? And her clothing? Far too used to wearing too large t-shirts and jeans when gardening.

Some other appearance; some way to fit into a sense of what someone selling flowers would look like. How to articulate that sense?

Money was already tight, but needs must. Feminine would work. Pink – already a favourite colour – would offset the yellow flowers. A morning trudging around the Sector Five markets eventually landed something looking the part; a long pink dress, tiny buttons up the front. Too constricting done up fully; Aeris left most of the buttons below her waist undone. Easier to move. The lower cut of the dress left her neck feeling bare; she selected a thin choker from Mom’s collection of jewellery she no longer wore. Hair carefully braided and not in the usual pony-tail. No question about her mother’s ribbon still – could not leave it behind. That or the cargo within.

The jacket she settled on after the first day with the new look; where she smiled and walked at a slower pace. Possibly some more make-up next time (agonisingly precise but with aspirations of being unnoticeable. So many men complimented her ‘natural beauty’ after). But her shoulders got cold easily in the open-air. The jacket helped keep her warm. No other shoes but her boots; hopefully not many would be staring at her feet and heels would be murder. A week of selling to the slums (a generous but practically pitiful fifty gil in profits) and time to try the Upper Plate. Aeris swept along with the rest of the rush-hour crowd and took a seat on the train as it began its long climb to the Upper City.

“Lovely flowers.” A woman with red eyes, grey roots and an unfamiliar accent smiled down at her. “Haven’t seen any like them around here.”

“They’re for sale if you’d like one?” The woman nodded. And now the awkwardness. How much for each here? The train with its captive market on the ascension like this; could she try and sell flowers to the passengers? Coming from the slums they would be the poorer of those who journeyed upwards, but they would still have more money than those relegated to a life beneath the plate. “Th-Fo-Fi-Fifty gil. Each.”

Pulse-rocketing she met the woman’s gaze. Her smile did not slip. “For one? I’ll take two.” The woman fumbled with her purse and extracted the relevant currency.

“Pick any two you like.”

The woman took her time and slipped two of the flowers out from the mass. She held them up to her nose and inhaled. “Elivagar.”

“Ah- Um.” Aeris glanced around. “Sorry. Didn’t catch that?”

The woman grinned, still staring at the flowers. “Sorry. They reminded me of my home.”

Aeris shrugged. “I’ve never heard of a town called Elivagar.”

“Elivagar is a flower that grows on the mountain there. Similar to these. My town- Not sure on what the local name would be. Or what Shinra would call it. We knew – know - it as Hvergelmir.” She said something else, the words and meaning impossible to make sense of. “Sorry. No one speaks our tongue here.”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of Hvergelmir either.”

“Not surprised.” The woman chuckled. “Back-water place that few know of. Up in the mountains. Very isolated. And-“ She sighed. “Even there the language is dying out.”

“I like how it sounds though.” A glance around. “I know some Wutai – in case I ever get to go there. I- I- might go to Hvergelmir one day? I want to see more of the world.”

“Is that why you are selling the flowers?”

“Sort of.” Things would be better when Mom got a new job, but more money would not hurt the family. Shame it required all the preparation and theatrics to entice customers.

“Well...” The woman stared at Aeris. “If you do ever find yourself there-“ For the remainder of the journey, the woman – Rinoa – taught Aeris how to speak her language. Affirmatives, negatives, apologies, welcomes, goodbyes and how to ask if anyone spoken Standard. “Or as we call it ‘Midjun-gard’.”

An informative lesson became a series – and by strange coincidence, Rinoa was on every train ride Aeris took for the next three years. Each time she purchased another two flowers and was able - little by little – to teach her language until Aeris felt fluent. Or, more accurately, until Rinoa stopped riding the train without another word. Aeris tried in vain to figure out where she lived in Sector Five, or if she had come from Four – or made the effort to come from Seven or Three. But no one recognised her description and few on the trains wanted to speculate on the other passengers.

Nothing to do but keep on selling the flowers.


	8. Five-Fingered Discount

Old habits die hard. Hunger tended to overwhelm focus easily – particularly when standing around in the night-time and trying to sell flowers to the theatre crowd pouring out of the most recent performance of Loveless. Her customers were the not totally drunk patrons on their way home and halves of couples trying to impress their significant other. Through it all, Aeris had to maintain her flower girl aesthetic, her smiles, her careful deflections. No one wanted to watch her eat between serving customers or find her eating on approach; worse still to caught in the nearby fast food place chowing down a burger and fries.

Not compatible with pretences at beauty, innocence and grace. Not her; she sold not merely flowers, but a whole notion of something more natural. What kind of person could possibly grow impossible flowers in this city? Her. Thus she must seem to be pure of heart, chaste, ethereal with some decidedly light and innocent personal interests. Which was not to say she did not like growing the flowers or was not interested in plant-life, but selling her wares seemed to require a specific role. Not different to many other professions, but hers was trickier to put down until she was home. People seemed more inclined to make assumptions about her.

So she needed to cope with hunger in some subtle way. Either eating before she headed out for the evening – no time today – or grabbing something when up on the Upper Plate. Paying was another matter entirely. With her stomach grumbling, one cool November evening at age twenty-two, Aeris ducked into a supermarket, intent on leaving with something chocolate-y she could eat on the way to the Sector Eight plaza. She’d been here several times before, convenient enough to pick up a few bits and pieces before heading home – harder to source in the slums or pricier but worth it. Some staff she knew by name – had sold flowers to them on occasion. None of those in sight today.

Browse down the aisles; keep an eye on cameras, staff and other shoppers. Not appear to loiter, be ready to move- The two chocolate bars (not her favourites but filling enough and they would do until she got home) secured, and slipped into her basket. Hard part over. Now to get on her way-

“Miss?” An unfamiliar employee rested her hand on Aeris’s shoulder. Her badge claimed her name was ‘Jenny’. “Would you come with me please?” The girl – about eighteen – was not smiling.

“Sorry, is something wrong?” Tension now; had she seen something? Or was there some simpler, innocent explanation? Mind racing Aeris could think of nothing.

“Right this way-“ Jenny gestured towards the back of the store, hand clamped around her upper arm. Oddly firm grip too. She could try and run but- Jenny strode forwards, Aeris left with little choice but to move with her. Back through the staff-only door into the dim quiet behind the scenes. No one else back here. A dim corridor lead to a succession of rooms; for changing, for breaks, for stock- Hard to focus. Caught and the longer this took to resolve, the greater the chance she would miss the theatre crowd. Best to come clean?

“I-“ She broke off when Jenny shoved her forward and into a small, cramped room, a desk pushed up against one wall. Aeris stumbled and whirled, Jenny was grinning now, but the grin was too wide, too many teeth (far too many teeth), her skin stretched and warping her features and her eyes cat-like slits and she was getting closer-

The door slammed open and the manager – Edea - stormed in. Older than Aeris, short, chestnut brown hair and usually smiling. A familiar customer on other visits. Right now she was furious. “Jenny, would you like to explain to me what is going on?”

Between one blink and the next, Jenny’s face reverted back to the sullen, almost pouty expression she had on the shop-floor. No sign of the cat-eyes or anything unusual. Aeris blinked hard. “I caught her shop-lifting.”

“Shop-lifting?” Edea glanced at Aeris and her heart sank. Still, this situation with Edea present was better than whatever Jenny’s plans entailed. “You saw her?” Jenny nodded, trace of a smile on her lips now. Her gaze flicked up to above Aeris’s head. The clock. Five minutes until the end of the Loveless performance. Aeris needed to get out of here. Was Jenny waiting for something? Maybe her shift would be over soon.

“Check her basket.”

Edea took a cautious step forward and shot Aeris a sympathetic smile. “Would you please move the flowers for me?” Resigned to her fate, Aeris shifted the flowers and uncovered the two chocolate bars. Edea reached in, took both and winked. Huh? “I don’t see anything.” A momentary glimpse of the bars in her hand and the chocolate in question vanished up Edea’s sleeve. Jenny rushed up beside her and stared into the basket.

“They were here! I saw her take two bars and put them under the flowers.” A furious expression on her face now and she glared at Aeris. “Tricksy as ever, aren’t you? You think you can stop me, stop us so easily? I-”

“That is quite enough out of you.” Edea effected a neutral expression. “I see no evidence the customer has stolen anything. And even if she had, you know store policy is to inform me, not drag our customers off of the shop-floor like that.” Jenny ignored her, staring at Aeris with seething hatred, hands like talons at her side. “I’m very sorry Miss.” Edea inclined her head. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time, so you are free to go. Please accept my humblest apologies and please believe that I will punish this employee.”

A fleeting notion; demand compensation (food, groceries, gil), but it faded almost immediately. Edea had helped her already for no discernible reason; fair’s fair. “Thank you. I do have an appointment-“ Aeris hurried back out the way she came, the door closing on a growled, angry accusation from Jenny, Edea’s retort lost by distance. No time to snatch anything else, she would have to cope with the evening as best she could.

“Miss Gainsborough?” A different employee was stood by the exit door; badge name was Xu. A silver chain around her neck supported a tiny silver figure of a dolphin. Again? She was going to be late.

“Uh- Sorry, I have to-“

“These are for you.” Xu held four of Aeris’s favourite chocolate bar. “Courtesy of Ms. Wallace.”

“Ms. Wallace?” Dawdling – how much time remained?

“The manager.”

Now this was perplexing, but another encounter with Jenny or finding out what the manager’s deal seemed secondary. Flowers to sell in scant minutes. “Oh. Thank you. Please tell her I’ll be back to pay for them later.”

“But-“ Aeris took the chocolate from Xu and hurried out onto the street towards the plaza. She needed to make up for her light-fingered habits. Something to sort out after the theatre-rush. Aeris shoved the first chocolate bar in her mouth.


	9. Names (Don’t Always) Have a Tendency to Stick

The movement from Hojo’s labs to the wider Midgar had once been the most momentous change of Aeris’s life. Leaving Midgar entire left that in the dust. The world was gigantic and stretched out far beyond the horizons. So much had changed; new friends, new experiences, recapture, rescue, hot-wiring cars, grass, trees. Fresh air and blue skies! Chocobos! Mythril caves and Midgar’s poor cousin of a city. After the ferry there was sea and sand and time spent doing nothing (still a hard concept to grasp. No pressing issues, no worries for money or food, or tending to her flowers. Concerns for Mom back home but-). Barret’s home and an amusement park. Zack’s parents a jarring discovery and Cosmo Canyon a blow.

Amazement from her friends when she tried chatting to the Nibelheim residents in their native language after Tifa muttered a familiar other name for the town on arrival. Disappointing to find not a soul spoke it any longer (much like Rinoa's regrets). What might have been too much time became – at Tifa’s insistence – further evidence something was wrong here. Chasing Sephiroth lead them across grasslands to a cluster of buildings around the towering bulk of a rocket; the Shinra-26.

What was it for? It stood tall and rusted but seemingly ready to fly off into the sky. A chuckle from nearby; an older man, his hair near white, watched her. Traces of stubble on his chin and an ornate spear leant against the wall beside him. “Impressive sight isn’t it?”

“The rocket?”

“Aye.” The man grinned. “Sad to say it never got off the ground. But it’s why we’re here and we how we got our name.”

“’Rocket Town’. Little on the nose?” Aeris smiled at him.

That got another chuckle out of him. “Perhaps. Names tend to stick though. Can’t remember which bright-spark thought of it.” He gazed towards the rocket and fell silent.

Aeris followed his gaze to the rocket and fidgeted. “I should, er, get back to my friends.”

“Sorry. Always get a bit distracted when I look at her. What might have been.” The man shook his head. Aeris took a step back; the man looked past her. “That blond kid with you?”

“Oh, you mean Cloud?” Likely asking if anyone had seen Sephiroth. “He is.”

“Sword fan I judge.” Cloud was after-all extremely subtle about his weapon of choice. The man rummaged beside his chair and held up a sheathed sword with a curved blade, not unlike the Masamune but far, far shorter. “A present for giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, I couldn’t-“

“Worthless to me now missy. Couldn’t use that if I wanted to. No heirs to give it to. Your man over there-“

“It’s not like that-” Aeris’s cheeks warmed.

“-looks to be the type who’d have a use for it. Or keep it for yourself if you like.” An oddly expectant look from him.

Aeris took the sword and pulled it out a span, the blade gleaming in the sunlight. “Never used a sword. If you won’t take it back-“

“I won’t.” The man folded his arms and held her gaze.

“Thank you.” She pushed the sword back down and bowed. “It is a generous gift.”

“Got that not far from here. If you or your friend are interested. Down by the coast; weaponsmith by the name of Kanehama. Got some interesting stuff there. Collects old trinkets too; big fan of archaeology. I hear he spends some time up at Bone Village in the North and he’s got some real rare stuff. Even a few things he swears belonged to the Ancients.”

Almost too used to saying and hearing Cetra these days. But Cetra was a term in much rarer use who had a vested interest in the relevant history; to the rest her culture was the Ancients. And someone nearby might have something regarding her people – perhaps something Cosmo Canyon did not know of. A thin hope, but she had few leads now. “I- I- That sounds interesting.” She smiled. “Thank you. I think I would like to see what he has. And thank you for this.” Aeris hurried back to the rest of Avalanche as Cloud was directed to seek out ‘The Captain’.


	10. Interests Might Include Archaeology

The Planet urged her on, each pause only increasing a sense of losing time, or not moving fast enough. There was a time-limit, but the duration of it was vague – as was how long remained until everything was too late. No time to wake her friends, no time to leave a note. No time for much of anything short of grabbing a few essentials and some gil to help her on her way.

Hitched rides and exhausting marches brought her back to Costa del Sol. Her PHS somewhere back in Gongaga or the Temple of the Ancients (or perhaps inside the Black Materia). Didn’t matter. Little mattered now but moving, on getting further North. Once visiting Bone Village (the easiest accessible Northern port) would have been a fascinating diversion, but the urging would not let her consider stopping there.

Maybe later. Maybe once the Planet was safe. And she could explain why she had fled from her companions, rushed North-wards without hesitation.

Waiting in Costa del Sol for the next boat was anguish; she suffered something almost like a sugar-high but tempered by exhaustion. The same few phrases swirled in her head, her dreams (in the snatched times she could fall asleep) of woods and curved stone, water and crystal walls, of green and shining white-

“Excuse me? Is this the boat to Bone Village?” Aeris did not stop shifting from one foot to another, the ferry to the Northern Continent approaching the dock with frustrating slowness. A woman with grey flecked brown hair and green eyes had joined the queue.

“Yes.” She studied the boat, anxious to get aboard. As if doing so would help; all that would change was a renewed desperation to get moving again. She could try and bribe the captain-

“Wouldn’t have taken you for an archaeologist.” Aeris’s expression seemed to surprise the woman. “Not meant to be an insult dear. You’re too pretty.” The woman grinned. “Not that you can’t be pretty and an archaeologist. I suppose the movies might have it right.”

Aeris was still wearing her flower girl outfit. It was one of many things she wore on the journey, a new wardrobe assembled on the cheap as they moved from town to town. The woman was right; not how someone at a dig site would dress. Who was to say Shinra did not already know something of what she now had to do? Who was to say Sephiroth’s control did not or could not extend to others beyond Cloud? Revealing her mission was risky. “I- I wanted to visit. Not going to do any digging, but I heard about it a while back and it sounded interesting.” Aeris grinned. “Kind of an impulse thing which is why-“ She gestured to her dress.

The woman nodded. “We’ve all been there with spur of the moment decisions. Myself, I’ve been planning on going for a while. And I guess we’re on the same boat.” And dressed along expected lines; jacket and jeans. She held out her hand. “Selphie Tilmitt.”

Fraction of a delay and Aeris took it. “Crowe Altius.”


	11. Kalm-Coffee

No way to relax. No way to distract from what was coming, where she needed to be and how soon. Yesterday would be preferable. Last year better still. Nothing she could do – outside of leaping off the side and swimming and the effective upshot would be ensuring everything took longer. And she might well freeze in the increasingly cold waters as the ferry sailed North. Far too much time spent standing as close to the front of the boat as she could, staring out across the open sea, peering through gloom at sunrise and sunset, straining, hoping for a sight of land and a sense this leg of her journey would be over. How much more lay ahead was not something the Planet made clear. At least she would be able to press on under her own steam and not feel increasing desperation at having to stay more or less in one place.

“Aren’t you cold?”

She repressed the urge to groan. The unforeseen nuisance on the journey: Selphie. No matter where Aeris went on the boat (not a huge vessel) there was little chance of Selphie not running across her in some circumstance or other. Possible to avoid her by staying in the cabin – but would not help Aeris’s apprehension and constant nervous energy. And might mean she was less than ready for when they reached land-

Selphie shivered in the cold air. The cold helped distract from the delays, helped put her energies into something. Selphie - for all her faults - was at least something else to worry about in the interim. The older woman shot her a smile and offered her a paper cup with a lid. “Coffee. If you’re insisting on standing out here with no coat, at least drink something warm.”

Tempting to resist, but Aeris caved. She was cold. Grasping the cup prompted a flood of wondrous heat. Somehow she had missed how cold she’d gotten. “Thank you.” She sipped at the drink. Odd. Unusual taste. “What kind of coffee is this?”

“Just coffee.” A conspiratorial glance around. “Might have added some liquor – an impromptu Kalm-coffee if you will.” Selphie winked. Aeris took a longer sip. What liquor was this? Something almost sparkling (which made no sense), something overwhelming, something subtle, something familiar and yet alien. Tasty though. Aeris swigged again. “Good, eh?”

“It’s very nice.”

The Planet’s desperation endlessly churning in her head made conversation more difficult on these occasions when Selphie found her and decided to talk to her. Or at her. The woman loved to talk and thanks to the veritable deluge of near unavoidably one-sided conversations, Aeris knew she lived in an unusual situation with another woman and a man – her friends or maybe lovers for years.

They lived- She had said where they lived but the answer was gone now, lost under a fog of desperation. They had a house somewhere, the three of them happy with a wide circle of friends. Selphie didn’t like staying in one place and had a tendency to wander – and this did not diminish her relationship at all. She’d travelled around the world many times. But there was always something she wanted to revisit, something she felt she had not seen, some reason to leave home and wander.

It sounded wonderful. Something to aspire to.

“Ah!” Selphie leant forward.

“Something wrong?” Aeris blinked, the length of time since she last slept, was last able to relax, now weighing heavily.

“Land.” She pointed. A narrow strip of dark lay on the horizon. Aeris’s stomach lurched. Not much longer. She swigged at the coffee, nervous energy jumping to a new high. She would soon be moving on her own steam again and following the magnet-like pull still dragging her forward into the North.


	12. Terminal Destination

Everyone was behind her now, back on the other side of the Sleeping Forest. Stepping off the boat, Aeris was barely able to focus on anything beyond the path leading into the Sleeping Forest. The Planet needed her to go in- To an end still vague and undefined. Selphie hurried off to see the latest archaeological finds with a promise to meet up with Aeris for dinner. Aeris said something, might have agreed, but did not pause and walked away from the dig site. She ignored all the warning signs, any and all shouts and calls to stop and instead plunged into the forest.

That was hours, perhaps days before. The forest path became stone. The stone path lead to a city – whose existence of Aeris had never heard of before. And still the pull lead her on. In the heart of the city was a crystalline stair leading down to an altar in a vast cavern. The words of the Planet on her lips, the need to reach out, the need to ask- Ask to deflect the devastation Sephiroth had vowed to bring down on them all, to stop Shinra’s practices.

How long she recited those same words silently, how long she prayed, how long the request took to form and convey; all lost in a blur. She opened her eyes at a nearby sound as exhaustion spread across her like a blanket. Her eyelids threatened to droop but did not obscure an impossible sight; Cloud stood before her, the Buster Sword lying on the ground behind him, Avalanche further back still.

Sleep. She needed sleep. A rush, an impact nearby, cries, shouts, screams and something shoving her forward. Confusion. The sword blade in front of her; where had that come from?

Darkness took her.


	13. The Can’ts and the Won’ts

The pressure on her chest forced Aeris to suck in a breath and her lungs convulsed with a wracking cough. Cold. So cold. Aeris opened her eyes.

Selphie Tilmitt grinned down at her, face wet and hair damp. “Welcome back.”

“What?” Aeris blinked. Cloud had dropped his sword, Avalanche had tracked her (had the dream been truly enough of a hint to lead them here?), the impossible sword blade in front of her- “What- What happened?” She sat up, the blanket across her chest pooling around her waist, dull ache in her stomach. She was naked, sitting on a blanket on stony ground, her hair wet and loose around her shoulders. She pulled the blanket up around her chest, shivering despite the fire beside her.

Selphie held out a sweater and leggings. “Get dressed first or you’re risking hypothermia.” Still smiling, but there was an authoritative edge to her voice – something absent on the boat. Behind her was the forest of glowing white trees and the shell-house concealing the entrance down to the cavern.

“How-“

“Dressed first, then you need to eat something. We can talk after.” But Avalanche had come and gone – or had she dreamed it all? “I know this has to be confusing, but you have time now. No need to rush.” She was right somehow. The Planet quietened in her head, the urgency of moving gone, a void left in its place. Aeris took the clothes, shuffling around to shield her body from view; Selphie made a show of looking away. Why was there a bandage around her midsection? The force of that blow- “Leave that. Need at least another week to heal properly. You need to take things easy for the next few days “ She clicked her tongue. “Well, you should try to anyway.”

The admonishment for looking died on Aeris’s tongue; Selphie was facing away and pulling sandwiches and a thermos from a bag. Aeris dressed, opting to leave the blanket around her shoulders. Strangely cold, wet hair falling forward to rest against her cheek until she futilely brushed it back, stray strands falling forward again. Where was her ribbon? Her Materia? “Drink.” Selphie held out a cup; Aeris sipped at the drink. The same, strange Kalm-coffee from the boat.

“This- This isn’t liquor in here is it?”

“It’s not.” Selphie poured a cup from the flask and swigged it. “It is however perfectly safe and will do you the power of good.” Aeris reluctantly sipped at the coffee laced with something that was not liquor. “Now eat this-“ Selphie handed Aeris a sandwich.

“Kalm-spiced as well?”

Selphie snorted. “That is a lettuce and cucumber sandwich.” Almost disappointing. Warmth was spreading through Aeris – and only after eating the sandwich did it become clear how hungry she was. “Good. Now. Ask your questions-“ She held up a hand as Aeris opened her mouth, still full of half-chewed sandwich. “I can’t or won’t answer some of them. Those ones... Well. You’ll find those answers yourself.”

She was so certain. Aeris swallowed awkwardly, not chewing well enough, the lump painful down her throat. How long since she had last eaten? “Okay.” What to ask? “Where’s Avalanche. No. Why am I here? No. Why am I so cold?”

“You’ve been at the bottom of the lake.” Aeris burst out laughing, a twinge of pain from her stomach. What was under the bandage? Selphie’s expression didn’t change. “I’m serious.”

“You mean I’ve been in that place underground?”

“No. At the bottom of the lake.” Selphie took a slow deliberate bite of her own sandwich.

“...why?”

“Cloud put you there-“

Too much. “How do you know his- What do you mean he put me there? Didn’t anyone stop him?” Aeris clutched at her hair in frustration. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? Watching me try to make sense of what happened and knowing everything and-“ She clawed the air with her fingers.

“If I tried to explain it from the start, I’m pretty sure you’d to interrupt with questions. I- I thought it better to let you lead.” Selphie shrugged. “Looks like I was wrong.” She cleared her throat. “Cloud put you in the lake because he thought you were dead. He thought you were dead because he saw Sephiroth run you through with the Masamune. And-“ Aeris kept opening and closing her mouth trying to articulate half of her reactions. “-as far as Avalanche could tell you were dead. Might have been too had you not had that Kalm-coffee.” Selphie winked.

Aeris gaped at her. “But. But- I mean, thank you if you stopped me from dying, but how could- Why would you-“ A long stare. “Who are you, really?”

“And that is one of the questions I won’t answer. Sorry.” Selphie shot her a grin. “Like I said, I am confident you’ll figure it out at some point.” Selphie drank more of her coffee, speaking a hair before Aeris could articulate another question. “Avalanche went North. They’re continuing their pursuit of Sephiroth with a more personal stake in his defeat than they had.”

“I should-“

“You can’t go that way.” Selphie had a grim expression now. “I know you want to, but if you want everything you did to pay off, if you trust them and their abilities, you will not follow them.” Aeris glanced back along the path leading out of the grove.

"Will you stop me?"

"I won't. I can't. But there's other matters that need your attention now - some work only you can do. Please trust me that you'll see your friends eventually. It might not happen for a good while, but you'll get there. If you go South. If you go North?" She shrugged. “Can’t see it ending well.”

Aeris struggled for a retort again. "You say all that like I should trust you and if what you've said is true then you've saved my life." Selphie nodded. "But you’re – You are using a fake name aren’t you?” Another nod. “And refuse to tell me who you are." Despite the shiver racing through her Aeris narrowed her eyes. "I don't know that you didn't drug me back there and- And-" Absurd and impossible to believe everything was a delusion. “This is a strange situation.”

Selphie licked her lips. "Sorry." She shook her head. "But if it helps, it's not just me responsible for all this." She grinned. "I’m here because my friends helped you get here."

"Oh?" Wary. “What, like the captain of the boat? You know someone who knows a secret way through that forest?” Wait. “How did you get through? More to the point how did Avalanche-“

“Not like that, and that’s not important. I meant people like Ms. Trepe." Aeris's stomach lurched. How? "First name Quistis but she never liked being called that."

"No." Aeris frowned. “No, she didn’t.”

"Or Zell Dincht, never liked his last name. Kramer-" Selphie stared towards the sky. "He had a cat plushie on a shelf in his store."

"He did." One with a passing resemblance to Cait Sith. Wait-

Selphie’s grin grew. "Cat and Victor you never got to see but they were quite real I assure you." Aeris's head reeled. "There was Rinoa of course. Edea got you out of a bad situation and Xu gave you some chocolate." Names plucked out of her past, some half-forgotten but Selphie knew them. "Who else? Ah. Irvine g-"

"I don't remember an Irvine."

Selphie blinked. "Irvine? You must remember him. Irvine Kinneas?" She stressed the surname and gestured. "A few days ago? He should have given you a sword?"

"Sword? Oh! What, that old man in Rocket Town?" Aeris shook her head. "Not great evidence if I don't know his name."

"Oh for- All that planning, all that care! All those names and he never told you!?" Selphie scowled. "I am going to-” She sighed. “At least he pointed you in the right direction."

"Wait, he- You’re claiming you wanted me to meet Kanehama?” Selphie nodded. Aeris took a deep breath. "I suppose we would have been lost without meeting him, but-“ She shook her head. “It’s an impressive trick. I don't know how you found out about half them. Unless you're also part of Shinra and we had another spy. Or maybe you’re a Turk?”

Selphie laughed. "That the only explanation you can come up with?"

Aeris shrugged. "The only sensible one." A strange impossible sense of something. No. Absurd.

A glint in Selphie's eyes now. "But I wasn't quite done. Mask-" Aeris's stomach lurched. "Is a friend. He-" A wider grin. "He fought Purple every Tuesday."

"Every Tuesday." Aeris echoed the words breathlessly.

"Fought him and you never got to see the end of the fight. I think I can tell you now there never was one. Round and round they went and got back to you every Tuesday. I had to step in eventually."

Aeris opened and shut her mouth a few times. "So if I believe you, Purple wasn't a friend?"

Selphie flinched. "Far from it. Him or Jenny."

"Wait, what? She was- Then I wasn't seeing things?" The too wide grin, the horrible strength.

"She was not what she appeared." An electronic beep sounded; Selphie glanced at her watch. "Almost out of time." She sounded amused. "But please, Aeris. Please go South. Please let everything we did for you end well. This-" She touched the backpack beside her. "-is for you. For the journey. You'll need to hide who you are. Crowe's as good a name to travel under as any." She touched Aeris's hand and smiled. “The White Materia is resting below in the cavern. Leave it be; the Planet heard you, and it’s ready. Oh, and Tifa has your ribbon.” She seemed to know everything. "And if that still isn't proof enough to trust me-" Selphie pointed at something behind Aeris.

The trees in the grove still glowed. There was no one and nothing of significance in sight on the white path leading back to the rest of the city. The lake water was still, the fire still crackled. "What? I don't-" Aeris was alone by the fire. Of Selphie Tilmitt there was no sign, but the backpack still lay nearby. Where had she gone? And here Yuffie was supposedly good at vanishing without a trace. Time passed and Selphie did not return.

Her bangles remained on her wrists, the black cord around one arm might be her choker; but where had her dress and jacket wound up? Aeris stirred slowly, stiff and aching, shuffling closer to the fire. The backpack contained money, a complete change of clothes, emergency rations, hair bobbles and a handful of Materia. Enough to keep her going. Where next? North was an unknown – Avalanche lay that way, though she could not be certain how far ahead they were now. To the South was the Sleeping Forest and Bone Village. The way Selphie had begged her to go despite her refusal to answer so many questions.

The Planet remained quiet in her head; its voice, its urging such a driving voice before its absence now left her adrift and uncertain. Did her friends mourn her? Cloud had placed her in the lake; something approaching a funeral after her apparent demise. Was she the more personal stake, her friends blaming Sephiroth for her demise and now seeking him to avenge her? She continued eating the sandwiches Selphie left behind. North or South; try to catch up with her friends – or trust the woman who said she’d saved her life?

The woman who knew her name, knew about the White Materia and where her ribbon was. Who knew the strange and oddly significant adults of her past. Who might eventually make sense – if Aeris believed her. Who knew Avalanche, knew Cloud and Tifa.

Aeris sighed; she would head South. She would trust Selphie's words – trust the woman whose actions saved her, and believe in what her friends were now doing. She would carry on with the name Crowe Altius to find and carry out some new objective. Something only she could do once more.


End file.
